


Exposure

by akire_yta



Series: kink bingo [2]
Category: Bandom, Disney RPF
Genre: M/M, Photography, Voyeurism, kink bingo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-11
Updated: 2013-08-11
Packaged: 2017-12-23 02:43:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/921052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akire_yta/pseuds/akire_yta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kink Bingo: "pictures" square, prompt from xsnarkasaurus</p>
            </blockquote>





	Exposure

 

Tom is strange; Joe had thought so the first time they'd met, and nothing since has given him reason to change his opinion. But he's strange in a friendly, off-beat way, a way that Joe finds intriguing. If _quirky_ hadn't been abused by too many Hollywood scriptwriters, he'd have called Tom quirky.

But really, Tom is just Tom. And Tom seems as fascinated by Joe as Joe is by him.

So Joe makes time for this.

He wouldn't trust Tom with a dollar, but he knows he can trust Tom with these photographs. Photos seem more real to Tom than anything else, and he protects them fiercely even as he lets everything else fall by the wayside. Something happens to Tom behind the camera; there's a sharpness in his gaze and an unexpected authority in his voice as he calmly directs Joe into new postures.

Management would kill him if they knew, but management aren't here. This is just for the two of them. “Shirt off,” Tom says as he clicks a frame.

Joe tugs it off and tosses it over to land on his shoes by the door. He feels so calm and peaceful, in front of Tom's camera, listening to Tom's voice make all the decisions, telling him what to do.

“Lie down, but with your head on this end. Hang your head off the end.” There are never any questions; Tom just says it, and Joe makes it work. He shuffled around and laid back so his head hung over the end of the battered old chaise longue that Tom had found from _somewhere_. It was a faded red and smelled of dust, but Joe could see why Tom liked it, had dragged it up three flights of steps to his apartment in the summer heat. “Put your arm up, yes, like that, but twist your wrist. I want to see your birds.”

Tom loved his tattoos. Joe held the posture as the shutter clicked, and thought about maybe taking Tom with him on his next trip to the Colonel. His eyes drifted closed as he thought of the counterpoint between the click of Tom's camera and the click-click of the Colonel's needles.

“Good,” Tom praises him softly as he takes another photo, and Joe sighes, head lolling as the last of the tension leaves his body at the praise. Tom walks around him, bare feet silent on the wooden floor. Only the click of the shutter and the occasional mumured instruction tells Joe where he is.

When Tom is done, he hands Joe his shirt and sits next to him, leg touching Joe's. Joe leans into Tom as Tom brings the pictures up on the laptop.

He looks beautiful in Tom's pictures, he always does. Joe lets himself rest there, leaning against Tom, wondering as he always does if this was how Tom always sees the world.


End file.
